


We Can Learn To Love Again

by 1dfetusfics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Kidnapping, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, age gap, there's some zarry in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4159887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1dfetusfics/pseuds/1dfetusfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry (10) is kidnapped by a group of wealthy men who already own Louis (21), a trained sex slave. Try as they might, they can’t help falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the warnings!

Harry lingers impatiently by the basketball courts, fidgeting with the red tie of his uniform and glancing around the vacant school yard. It’s later than normal and he knows his mum will fuss at him for being late. He should be half way home by now.

The thing is, he really wants Niall to like him because even though he’s a year ahead he talks to Harry for some reason. The blonde boy had called down the hall that the sixth graders had cupcakes for a girl’s birthday and that he would sneak one for him. Harry promised he would wait so that they could have their treat and walk home together.

The playground is empty now, and Harry has never seen it like this before. It looks lonely and skeletal without the familiar flocks of blue and white uniforms swarming it.

Harry tells himself it’s silly to be scared when the sun is still out but wrings his fingers anxiously around his tie, wishing Niall would hurry.

He flicks his head around as the hum of an engine and the sound of tires crunching asphalt come up from behind him. It’s an Escalade with shiny, silver rims and a dark haired man looking out from the back seat window with a strange grin.

“Hey, buddy. Mummy and Daddy never came to get you?”

Harry frowns because the man’s smile does not convey any type of happiness. It actually makes his tummy churn and his heart dip too low in his chest.

He wonders why he is sitting in the back and who is driving and why are they even talking to him? He doesn’t have time to wonder for long because the man is getting out of the car and walking towards him. He crouches and his eyes rake Harry up and down.

“Your mummy sent us to pick you up today, remember? Did she forget to tell you?”

Harry shakes his head vigorously, curls bouncing against his temples. His voice is knotted up in his throat and he wants to run but the dark haired man is already pushing him into the big car, artificially assuring him that it’s alright. 

The moment the heavy door shuts Harry begins to cry, scrabbling around the leather seats to get to the other door. The dark haired man yanks him to his side and shushes him.

“I-I wa-want my m-mum.” He pleads brokenly, his narrow shoulders trembling with sobs.

“Look at his little trousers.” The dark haired man quips eagerly to the driver, who turns his head to look.

“You complete pervert.”

The driver is younger and lighter complected than the one beside him, but looks equally as malicious.

Harry tries to tug the hem of his shorts over his knees to cover himself. The two men just laugh.

“Please.” Harry whispers, but it’s so quiet and he already knows it will go unanswered.

They drive down roads Harry has never been on before. He’s crying and chewing his lips and edging to the other side of the seat because the dark haired man keeps bumping their knees together.

They turn into a long, winding driveway that ends at the front step of an enormous house made of white stone with trimmed hedges and a fountain. It looks like a palace.

Harry is jerked from the car and scooped up to be carried inside. This time he screams and thrashes because he doesn’t like the way the man’s hands feel on him. The man glowers and pinches him very hard on the bum, causing Harry to yelp and break down into fresh tears.

A grownup has never hurt him on purpose before and it strikes a deep and terrible fear in him.

“You need to behave yourself.” The man snarls, no trace of the smile he had before.

Everything feels numb and surreal as he is carried down the corridors of the exquisite house, rough, ropey arms holding tight around his thin frame.

They end up at a large, rather empty, room. There is a bare mattress in one corner, and what looks to Harry like neglected exercise equipment in the other.

The man sets him down on the floor and slips his backpack off from around his shoulders before starting to unbutton his school shirt.

Harry immediately resists and pushes him away as hard as he can but the dark haired man lunges and grabs him around the throat so violently it makes Harry spasm and wet himself on the spot.

“Oh, Jesus. Fuckin pissed his pants.” The man mutters in an annoyed tone, spying the expanding soaked patch on the little boy’s school trousers. He beckons yet another strange man, who pins Harry down as the other strips off his clothes and shoes.

“N-No! Please, stop, please!” Harry wails in vain, feeling helpless, humiliated, and utterly defeated as his clothes are tossed aside and he’s left completely naked.

He wants the ground to swallow him up when he feels his private parts get wiped down with a cold rag.

Ten year olds do not typically have an expansive knowledge of sex and evil, but Harry knows enough to sense what this situation means for him.

“That’s better isn’t it, baby boy?” One of them asks, but Harry’s eyes are shut tight and he is honestly hoping beyond hope that he will be dead soon.

“Look over here, Louis. We’ve brought you a little play mate.” 

Harry half heartedly opens his eyes to see another boy being led into the room. He’s naked too, with smooth, golden-tan skin and his body is taut and muscular all over except for a small, supple belly.

Harry opens his eyes wider and tries to get a glimpse of the older boy’s face, but his chin is dropped down on his chest, sandy brown locks obscuring his view from his position on the on the floor.

“I just told you to look at him.” The man repeats harshly, and slowly Louis tilts his face up and locks eyes with Harry.

His eyes are a clear blue, lined with fluttery lashes. He has a square jaw and sharp cheekbones but the timid expression on his face makes him look younger than he really is.

Louis blushes and Harry feels his own face heat up as they look away from each other. The three men erupt into cruel laughter.

“Like little boys don’t you, Lou? Look at your fucking cock.”

Harry jumps at the language but can’t help stealing a curious glance, seeing that Louis’ penis is starting to stiffen. He peeks up at the older boy’s face to see his cheeks tinged nearly crimson, his blue eyes feverishly blinking back tears.

Harry doesn’t fully understand the connection between him and Louis’ penis but he feels bad for Louis because Louis is naked and embarrassed like he is. Harry sits up from the floor, hugging his legs to his chest. He tells himself that he and the beautiful older boy are the good guys and that maybe he will be okay.

Louis is shoved forward and made to kneel in front of Harry, either of his thick thighs pressed against each other. Harry notices that he is shaking.

Now that he’s closer Harry spots a bit of stubble around his thin, pink lips, and puffy bags under his eyes. Louis seems to be bashfully studying him too, looking back and forth over his face.

It makes Harry hot and his tummy all twisty and he suddenly feels terribly shy and wants to cover himself up. But at the same time he wants to go to him. Wants to be close to him and be hugged and comforted because even though he doesn’t know this boy called Louis he radiates the only indication of good left in Harry’s innocent world.

The younger boy is confused and distressed so he just blinks up at him blankly, his thumb nestling itself between his full lips. The action makes Louis’ eyes go wide and his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

The dark haired man weaves an arm around Louis’ waist, slipping a metal ring around his penis that’s now swollen and standing straight out from his body. Harry thinks it must hurt his willy because Louis’ face turns a shade darker and he won’t look up anymore.

“Why don’t you sit on Louis’ lap, sweetheart?” The man suggests with an eerie smile.

Harry pulls his elbows in and bites down around his thumb, wishing he could disappear. He doesn’t want the men to hurt him and he definitely doesn’t want to wee again, especially not in front of Louis.

As frightened as he is, he shuffles forward, gingerly sitting on top of Louis’ crotch and gripping on to the older boy’s shoulders. He feels so embarrassed because their privates are touching but he doesn’t know what else to do.

He can feel warmth coming off Louis’ tan chest and he smells nice and clean and soft so Harry thinks it’s okay to pop his thumb back into his mouth and rest his head on Louis’ shoulder. He feels even better when a pair of delicate hands come to rest on his back.

“Such sweet boys we have. Let’s see a kiss then.”

But Harry is frozen. He’s never kissed anyone before in his life besides his mum. The thought of his mummy out there somewhere looking for him shoots a pang through his heart. Maybe she would be angry at him right now. She might not even love him anymore. The idea makes Harry whimper and cling tighter to Louis.

Louis angles his chin and presses his lips gently to the corner of Harry’s mouth. They’re soft and kind and he accidently lets out a little gasp when Louis barely breathes out the words.

I’m so sorry.

Harry pulls away and peers up at him through his curly fringe, sucking on his thumb so hard he thinks he tastes blood. Louis looks afraid, his lips parted as if he is going to speak.

“A proper kiss, Louis.” 

Louis doesn’t move though. He bites his lower lip and stares at Harry with a horrified expression. Suddenly, Harry feels a woosh of air and loud smack rings out as Louis’ handsome face contorts in pain.

Harry shrieks at the display of violence and smashes his lips into Louis’ because maybe that will make them stop hitting him. He doesn’t know how to kiss properly at all but the slapping is replaced by boisterous whoops of ridicule.

Harry cringes at their jeers but Louis is licking lightly at his lips and when Harry opens his mouth to do the same his tongue slips inside.

For a few blissful seconds he forgets where he is. He just exists in an indefinite moment where this beautiful, sad boy is kissing him with a fierce tenderness that makes his tummy swoop. 

He’s torn out of his little world when he’s suddenly pulled off of Louis’ lap and made to lie back on the floor. The men’s eyes are running all over him and his penis is hard and heavy like Louis’ now. Harry panics because the reassurance of the older boy is gone and he instinctively reaches back for him.

But Louis couldn’t gather him up in his arms again even if he wanted to. He looks even more pained than he did when he was being hit. He places his tan hands on Harry’s creamy thighs and spreads his legs open so that his knees bend up.

Harry flushes and tries to keep his legs from quaking under the unfamiliar contact. Louis bends and his head is being forced down and Harry is mortified because he feels hot breath just below his willy in a place he has never been touched and Louis’ blue eyes, brimming with tears, are looking up at him through his lashes.

And then Louis is licking and licking him, wet and messy. Harry can’t think he likes it because all of this is wrong but he does, he really does. He’s in ecstasy and with every swipe of tongue and stubble he feels a kind of ache building up in his belly. He bites his lip because a noise is bubbling in his throat that he isn’t trying to make.

The man’s got a fistful of Louis’ feathery hair and yanks up on it every time he speaks to the older boy as he licks Harry’s hole.

“How’s that taste, baby?”

“Tastes so good, Daddy.”

“Yeah? You like eating out little baby boys, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a dirty boy, Louis. Tell Daddy how filthy you are.”

“I’m so filthy, Daddy. I’m a dirty boy.”

Louis’ voice has a pretty rasp to it and for some reason the wicked words make Harry want to moan. He might be puzzled as to why Louis is calling the man “Daddy” except for the fact that his tongue is now prodding at his little hole and pointing so that it slides inside of him.

And then Harry cannot help the sounds he begins to make. He whines with naïve shamelessness and opens his legs so wide it hurts, looking down over his sweaty chest at Louis whose face is pressed hard between his bum cheeks and lapping and panting like he’s dying of thirst.

Harry gasps and starts to squirm because he can’t handle this at all. Louis’ tongue is filling him up, flitting in and out and his thighs begin to quiver and something hot is tightening up in his tummy. All he can hear is blood rushing to his head and he thinks he is going to wee again.

“I…I’m gon…L-Louis…”

At that Louis runs his tongue up over Harry’s balls and slurps up his little cock. Harry can’t look away. Louis’ mouth and chin are shiny with spit and Harry is choking out high pitched oh, oh, oh’s and then Louis’ mouth is rumbling around his cock because he’s moaning too.

Harry squeals out Louis’ name as the tight feeling peaks, his hips jerking frantically up and down until he shudders and feels something liquid squirt across Louis’ tongue.

His chest is heaving and fatigue from either the day he has had or the sensation he just experienced washes over him. He’s too tired to be embarrassed or even afraid anymore.

Louis is wrenched up and the dark haired man is whispering something in his ear and stoking his hard cock. Harry doesn’t know what’s being said but Louis’ face is scrunched up and he’s begging ‘Please, Daddy’ a few times before the man twists off the metal ring and cum begins to spill out over his tan thighs.

Harry closes his eyes at this point and curls up on the floor. After that he doesn’t think about the men watching him or Niall at school or Mummy at home. All he can think is Louis, Louis, Louis and how he might behave and call that man his Daddy too if it means he can stay with the beautiful older boy and make him happy.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, but the men’s voices gradually disappear and the light in the room is turned off. For a moment he thinks he’s alone when that lovely raspy voice speaks softly to him.

“Harry? Is it okay if I pick you up?”

Harry nods and opens his eyes. He can just barely make out Louis’ figure as he lifts him from the ground. Harry winds his arms around his neck and breathes in his wonderful scent as he’s carried over to the mattress in the corner.

He thinks he might love Louis. He doesn’t know how that’s possible but he feels like he knows him already. The older boy is so nice to him and so handsome and he made him feel good.

Then Harry feels a twinge of guilt because the bad men made Louis do it. 

“Do you think I’m yucky?”

“What? No. Why would I think that, love?”

“Cos…you licked my bum.”

Louis lowers Harry down onto the mattress, pulling a thin fleece blanket over him before he speaks again in a hushed tone.

“I don’t think you’re yucky at all, Harry. I think you’re pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Very pretty.”

Harry smiles a tiny bit and goes to cuddle up to Louis’ warm chest except he’s getting up.

“Louis, can you stay with me? Please, I’m scared. ”

“I won’t let you stay here, love. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving where?”

“I’m gonna take you home.”

Harry furrows his brows and tries to make out what Louis is doing in the dark room. He’s got Harry’s backpack and is using the pull part of the zipper to pick at the lock on the door.

Harry’s heart is beating hard and fast because he’s afraid the men will come back and maybe hurt them. He’s about to express this fear to Louis when he hears a click and the creak of an open door.

“I’ll be right back, okay Harry?”

“No, don’t go, don’t leave me.”

“I have to get some clothes for us. I’ll come right back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Cross my heart.”

“Okay…Louis?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I read it on your backpack.

“Oh…okay.”

“Okay?”

“Y-Yes.”

Louis lingers for a moment before kissing Harry’s forehead and creeping out of the room. Harry clutches the fleece blanket and waits for what feels like hours alone in the dark that has gotten darker since Louis left.

But then he sees movement and Louis is back and dressed and is helping Harry to pull on clothes that are far too big for him. He’s got keys in his hand too and Harry is absolutely bursting with admiration for the boy for being so clever and brave and perfect. He’s in love, he knows it now. 

Louis holds his hand and leads him silently out of the room, down pitch black hallways to a big front door. They slip out and to Harry’s delight Louis sits him the front seat of the Escalade parked out front. Louis starts the car and they tear down the driveway, making jerky motions and Harry thinks Louis maybe has never driven before or maybe it’s because they are still holding hands.

He tells Louis where his school is and from there how to get home. When they pull into the neighborhood Harry sees police cars in front of his house. Louis grips tighter onto his hand and swallows nervously.

“O-Okay. Bye Harry.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“No. No, I shouldn’t…”

“But why?”

“They might…they’re gonna think I took you, baby.”

“But Louis you’re not a bad guy.”

Louis seems to be considering his thoughts and Harry gives him big eyes and a pouty lip because his heart will absolutely shatter if this is the last time he will ever see him. Louis finally gives a curt nod and Harry grins wildly, getting up and pressing a sweet kiss to Louis’ cheek.

They get out of the car, Harry demanding to be carried by the older boy who obliges and wraps his arms around him. Harry can feel his heart beating fast when he leans against his chest.

“I love you, Louis.”

“I love you too.”

“You really do?”

“Yep. You make me feel big and strong.”

Louis smiles down at him for the first time and gives his muscles a flex. Harry giggles and looks around sleepily at the police cars as they walk through the front gate of his garden. The last thing he sees is Mummy through the window, sitting on the living room sofa.

That’s all the relief he needs before he succumbs to sleep, breathing in the boy who saved him.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis (21) has rescued Harry (10) from their kidnappers. The only problem now is love and an 11 year age gap.

At this point, Louis is convinced he’s trapped in a dream where he’s definitely Louis but somehow not himself.

For a long time he just stands there, detached and dazed on the front step, looking over Harry’s sweet sleeping face in the buzzing yellow glow of the porch light. He can hardly wrap his head around how and where he is…or rather how and where he isn’t. 

Louis thinks he should knock on the door but all of this is new and it makes him uneasy and part of him wants his moment with Harry to last a little bit longer because he knows it’s about to end.

Which is why he is only half surprised when the front door flies open and in a matter of seconds Harry is ripped out of his arms and Louis finds himself face down on the concrete steps with blood pouring out of his nose.

He doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even make a move to wipe the blood that’s dripping into his mouth. He lies there in shock until two officers lift him by the arms and lead him toward a squad car parked alongside the road.

He’s really worried because he doesn’t know these people or what’s going to happen to him or if he’s in trouble or not. 

What Louis does know is that it won’t take the police very long to figure out he isn’t a pedophile or a criminal, or anybody for that matter. Louis doesn’t even exist. He doesn’t really have a last name or a social security number or a birth certificate. He doesn’t have a father who’s been looking for him or a mother who’s never given up hope.

He has a ‘Daddy’, a sob story, and a suite of emotional issues. That’s what Louis has.

Everyday up until today Louis had been small and weak and brought up to believe that his place in life was on his back or on his knees or covered in the ejaculate of a man who pretended to love him.

It took that frightened little boy, naked and shivering and looking up at him, needing him for Louis to realize he wasn’t any of those things at all. He was a man and that was a child and even though it went against every scrap of logic he had ever gathered in his wretched excuse for a life, he was going to save him.

And now Harry loves him. There is actually a piece of his precious little heart that belongs to him and before Harry spoke the words Louis knew it. Knew it by the look in his eyes and the way he curled into him when they were still complete strangers and the letters H-A-R-R-Y scrawled onto a peeling sticker on a book bag etched themselves across his heart.

Louis loves Harry too. He loves him in a way he shouldn’t love a ten year old boy. He knows it’s insensible, not to mention illegal, and he really tried not to let himself feel that way but he can’t help it.

He had taken in the chocolate curls and the angelic face that struck him like blind left hook and the moment his little fingertips dug into his shoulder asking for assurance it was like they had also punctured his chest and seized his beating heart.

His heart: That raw, tender, bloody thing held inside his walls of stone and ice. That thing that had forced him to keep living twenty one years he never asked for.

And Louis wants Harry to have it, and he wants him. Wants to love him and look after him and make him smile that breathtaking dimpled grin every single day because he is good and beautiful and innocent and deserves to be nothing but adored.

But as Louis shuffles toward the red and blue flashing lights and thinks of all these things, he knows it can’t be that way. Even though the warm little body felt like it was his and made him feel like everything he had been through had been worth it, it’s better to let Harry go. 

Let him go back to the mother that loves him, back to sleep in his little boy room in his cookie cutter home with a white picket fence.

He has to give Harry a chance to be what he himself will probably never be: Normal, even if it isn’t his fault.

The last thing Louis sees as he is being driven away in handcuffs is the little boy cradled in his sobbing mother’s arms, who casts him a glance that would have killed him if looks could. Maybe it’s too dark for her to see that he’s not crying out of remorse but out of cold and crushing grief.

As the little house gets farther and farther away, Louis knows deep down, he will never see Harry again.

——————————————————————————————————————

 

Harry stirs awake, curling up on his side underneath his warm covers. He doesn’t want to get out of bed right away, because today his room feels different and he feels different. Harry doesn’t remember falling asleep here.

He peels his eyes open and goes over all the things that happened yesterday. He thinks about the scary things first, and then he thinks about a wonderful boy called Louis.

Harry gets up and rubs his eyes, padding down the stairs to the kitchen. His mum is looking harried and busying herself making banana pancakes, Harry’s favorite. When she spots him she stops everything and runs over to crouch down and hug him round the middle.

“Mummy? Where’s Louis?”

She doesn’t say anything at first, just gives him an apologetic look and sits him up at the table, spreading Nutella over his breakfast.

“Don’t you worry about him, honey. He’s gone now, okay?”

“Gone where?”

“He’s in jail, sweetie and I promise he can never hu-“

But Harry has begun screeching NO NO NO NO and kicking and beating his fists on the table, sending forks and glasses of juice skittering all over the place and making a magnificent mess.

When he finally runs out of breath his mother has her hand over her mouth and looks close to tears.

“D-Don’t worry sweetheart, the policeman will be here soon and…and you can tell him everything.”

She pats him on the head and starts cleaning up but to Harry it’s like she’s not even there. He’s holding his head and hiccuping and staring off into space, trying to plan out what he will say to fix everything because this is all his fault.

All Louis did was save him and he had been scared and Harry made him come with him to the house and now he’s in jail and he doesn’t belong there at all.

Harry decides he will tell the policeman about the bad men and the big white house and how Louis rescued him and then he can ask him to tell Louis sorry and that he feels so bad and also that he loves him very much.

But a few minutes later when the big man arrives in his suit and hat and grumbling voice Harry dissolves into terror and scurries upstairs, refusing to come out of his room.

He can’t tell the difference between good men and bad men anymore. They look exactly the same. All Harry knows is that Louis is the best man and the only man he needs and that’s all that matters.

A few days later, Mummy takes him instead to talk to a plump lady with beady eyes that never blink, and long red fingernails that scribble notes about him before he even opens his mouth. 

Harry doesn’t want to talk to her about what happened anyway. All he does is ask about Louis and try to tell her that if he could just see him he will be fine.

She suggests buying a teddy that he could call Louis and Harry has never felt more insulted in his life.

Harry honestly doesn’t understand that something was wrong with what happened between him and the older boy. As far as he’s concerned, Louis licking him was the greatest thing he has ever felt. He even admits to putting fingers in himself while Louis’ spit was still all over his bum.

At that point the plump woman goes pallid and his mother howls and runs out of the room. The lady stutters out that he is too young and when he asks when he will be old enough she says when he is a grownup.

But Harry can’t fathom ever being one of those, and he certainly can’t wait that long to see Louis again.

—————————————————————————————————————–

Most of the time now, Harry plays in his room quietly and doesn’t ask to see friends. In fact, he doesn’t talk very much at all. He isn’t the same as he was before and he knows it. He feels sad and tired like a flower that’s been trod on.

Mummy takes away his crayons because he keeps drawing pictures of Louis (naked) with hearts and sparkles so he steals crayons from school and hides the drawings in his pillowcase.

But that makes Harry think he is a bad boy.

So he makes his bed and brushes his hair and keeps his room tidy. He begs Mummy for only vegetables and tries to get caught reading the bible and he stretches his face into a smile every day so that she will see he is a good boy and that he is telling the truth.

He waits until night time to let himself cry, and then he clutches the drawings of Louis to his chest and prays to any deity that will listen to please send Louis back because he needs him. And he always wakes up with a stuffy nose and a headache but he tells Mummy it’s allergies and gives her the most convincing smile he can muster.

But acting happy when you are actually intolerably unhappy is a difficult feat, especially for a ten year old boy.

One day out shopping, his mummy can see that all of this is unnatural and that he is making himself sick by pretending and she breaks down and shouts at him.

“Harry Edward Styles I’ve had enough of all this! You need to forget about Louis! He is a grown man and you are a little boy and he is not ever coming back! Do you understand me!?”

Harry is stunned and his bottom lip quivers and somewhere inside him he feels a sob beginning to rise so he turns and runs out of the shop doors, weaving through the parked cars of the lot calling out Louis’ name over and over until he is hoarse and exhausted. 

“You don’t love me. You don’t love me, Mummy. You don’t.” Harry cries feebly as she carries him back to the car.

“I do love you, honey. I promise this won’t hurt forever, I promise.”

But Harry knows that when a grownup says something won’t hurt, it almost always does and that forever is a very long time.

———————————————————————————————————————

 

One month, one week, and one day have gone by since the night Louis took Harry home.

He’s been tested and poked and medicated and peered at over spectacles with an expression of pity until someone decides he is free to go out into the real world.

Not that he’s ready, like at all.

Louis is insecure, fragile, accident prone and uncertain about everything. For a while he’s got himself a job at a hardware store and he’s learning about how normal people get on with each other and function in society.

The problem is he’s afraid of men taller than him…and shorter than him, younger, older it almost doesn’t matter. Every time he hears a man’s voice directed at him his blood runs cold and he’s his six year old self having a cock fed to him for the first time and he can’t breathe so he panics and ends up getting fired.

Luckily for Louis, lingerie shops are in high demand for gay men and he mostly interacts with women on a daily basis. He likes his new job and he is kind of making friends.

He goes to the gym five days a week and gets a flat and a cat called Kiki and he takes pills that make him less anxious. Louis is trying his hardest to be normal and he thinks he’s getting there.

It isn’t until night time that he lets his mind wander. He thinks it’s okay because he isn’t attracted to little boys, he’s just attracted to one little boy named Harry. And when he lies in bed he thinks guiltily back to green eyes and plump lips and a yummy little arse.

He never thinks of anyone else, even though Harry’s probably in therapy and slowly forgetting about him a little more every day.

It makes Louis sad, because he still loves him, but he tells himself that Harry is better off. He hopes he’s happy and healthy and popular in school and loved by everyone he meets. He thinks about that more than he thinks about the taste of his bum. And he thinks about that quite a lot.

So on this day, one month, one week, and one day, since Louis last saw Harry, his phone rings and it’s from a number he doesn’t recognize. Answering the phone terrifies him but that’s not normal so he does it anyway.

“H-Hullo?”

“Erm, yes, I’m looking for Louis Tomlinson?”

“Yes this is me, uh, him.”

“Hello Mr. Tomlinson, this is Anne Cox. I’m Harry’s mother.”

Louis’ chest constricts and his first instinct to start explaining himself but thankfully his instincts and his actions never cooperate so he manages to choke out another blank “Hullo.”

“Right…Hi. So, I really wanted to apologize to you for the arrest and all that. I didn’t know…”

“Oh…that’s fine I mean-“

“What I mean to say is that I think I may have judged you too harshly, Mr. Tomlinson and I’m sorry.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He thinks it’s nice of her to call and he wants to be deferential but that’s hard because he is dying to ask about Harry he just doesn’t know how.

“However, there’s still a bit of a problem…with Harry.“

“What? Is he okay?”

“Well, not really. You see, my son is…confused. He thinks you’re his boyfriend.”

“Oh…”

Louis feels better because Anne seems just as awkward as he does on addressing the issue, and it manages to conceal how happy he is to hear that Harry is thinking of him.

“Look, I cannot imagine what kind of life you’ve had but…I think for Harry to heal from this he has to hear it from you.”

“S-Sorry, hear what from me?”

“He needs to hear from you personally that you two are not in love and that he’s just a little boy. He thinks you’re getting married and going to live in Cinderellas’s castle for pete’s sake!”

A fraction of Louis’ rationale can see from Anne’s point of view but he would rather be in jail, he would rather be dead, he would rather be back in that godforsaken slave house than have to tell Harry he doesn’t love him.

And then as if hearing Harry’s name out of the blue wasn’t enough a sweet little voice in the background picks up. Is that Louis? Can I say hi? Tell him I love him, Mummy! Can I tell him? Mummy? 

Louis is standing up now, pacing back and forth down the hallway and biting his knuckle to keep from saying something stupid. God, he didn’t know how much he had missed hearing his voice.

“So if it’s alright with you Harry’s right here so I’ll put hi-“

“Anne, ANNE!”

“Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis is panicking and really doesn’t have to social skills to handle this smoothly at all.

“I…I just…he’s been through so much and if what you’re saying…that he thinks we’re in love…well don’t you think me telling him otherwise would just…d-damage him more?”

The line is quiet on Anne’s end, except for the sounds of Harry chattering. What’s wrong? Mummy can I talk? Please Mummy… Mum…Mum?”

“Shh. What are you suggesting?”

A flicker of hope and something like courage rises up in Louis’ chest and he tries not to invest too much of his lifelong happiness into the outcome of this phone call.

“Maybe…maybe I could spend some time with him…you know…help him get over what happened. We went through the same thing and I think he would talk to me…if that’s okay with you of course.”

The line goes silent again and Louis holds his breath for what seems like forever before he hears a sigh.

“Okay…alright. You have a point. How about you come to the house tomorrow night for dinner, six o clock?”

She sounds tired and unwilling and totally out of ideas and Louis has to suppress the urge to cheer.

“Yes! Yes that sounds great. I’ll see you and Harry tomorrow at six. Thank you, Ms. Cox.”

Right then Louis hears a thundering LOUIS IS COMIN- in the background before the phone disconnects. He drops against the wall of the hallway, sliding down and letting out an unconvinced laugh that this is actually happening.

He’s going to see Harry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: 1dfetusfics


	3. Part Three

Louis stands in front of the long mirror hung on his closet door, trying to convince himself that he is a confident, independent young man who is perfectly capable of anything he puts his mind to.

He’s also trying to button the collar of his shirt, having extreme difficulty because his hands are shaking, and it’s really not helping in his efforts to rally courage.

Some of it comes from the pre-excitement jitters of getting to see Harry again but the majority of it stems from his fear of first impressions, specifically from Harry’s mum.

Louis is bad at talking. He doesn’t understand humor other than his own. He can’t tell if someone is being sarcastic and he definitely doesn’t catch on to references (seeing as how he’s been locked in a mansion his entire life).

It makes spending time with other people unnatural because he is so focused on answering questions correctly and keeping a smile on his face and not fidgeting, that he comes across as a bit…weird.

But right now, weird is the least of his worries. The overbearing issue with Louis is how the hell do you sit down to a nice dinner with the mother of the little boy you were forced to go down on, which you actually enjoyed and who you think of constantly, without coming across as a complete pervert? 

He thinks he’s going to have to pull off a hell of an acting job, one that he isn’t sure he is capable of at all. Louis decides with a grim sigh that the only thing he can do is cater to Anne’s wishes for her son and try his best not to actually look at Harry.

The idea makes him agitated but he’s never been more determined to succeed at something either.

He’s ready about an hour early and sits at the kitchen counter, drumming his fingers and jiggling his knee restlessly, rehearsing what he will say to Anne and wondering with anticipation how he should conduct himself around Harry.

Louis is supposed to be helping him, after all. And maybe he can, but he’s sure he still needs more help than Harry does. He wants to see him so badly his stomach aches.

He needs Harry. Sometimes when Louis looks in the mirror he’s shocked to see a man standing there. It gives him an odd, empty feeling to remember that he is no longer a child; it’s like remembering a younger brother who died a long time ago.

But Harry fills up that empty space. If Louis could, he would replace every single one of his bad memories with ones of Harry. Cheering him on at all of his footie matches, tending to scraped knees, and watching cartoons with him. He wants to tuck Harry into bed every night and kiss his grumpy, just-woke-up face every morning.

And fine, he wants other things as well. Things he doesn’t want to admit to and things that don’t exactly mesh with this paternal ideal he dreams of. But he can’t help wanting Harry to feel completely and perfectly loved, and he knows he’s the one to do it best.

After torturing himself by watching the clock, Louis finally drives over to the house and parks his car out front. He steps out and shields his eyes from the setting sun, spying somebody already coming toward him from the front door. It’s not Harry though, it’s his mother and her arms are crossed.

“Hello, Louis.”

“Hey, Anne. How are you?”

“Doing well, thanks. Harry’s really excited to see you, don’t know if you noticed him in the window there.”

Louis looks over just in time to see a curly headed figure duck beneath the window sill and he laughs.

“I’m looking forward to seeing him again too.” And he hopes that didn’t come out the wrong way.

It’s a bit of an awkward moment. Louis doesn’t know what to say and Anne isn’t leading the way to the house. She’s scrutinizing his face and his hair and his car and for a fleeting moment Louis worries that she knows.

“Sorry, just curious, how old are you?”

“Twenty one.”

Anne shakes her head. “Funny, I don’t know what I was expecting. I had thought they said you were older.”

Louis looks at his shoes, not sure who “they” is or if that’s a good thing or a bad thing before he remembers something.

“Oh, um, I’ve brought something for you. Hope it’s not weird. It’s just from where I work.”

Louis fishes a pink and white gift card out of his pocket, handing it over to Anne who to his relief looks surprised and laughs.

“Oh how thoughtful of you! I love Cindie’s.”

Finally, she waves him toward the house, Louis follows behind and pushes his hands into his pockets, that way when he sees Harry he won’t be tempted to reach out and touch him or hug him. The last thing he needs right now is a boner. 

Anne ushers him inside and Louis steps over the threshold, his eyes sweeping around the unfamiliar setting until they land on a very familiar, and very adorable, curly haired little boy, already sat at the kitchen table.

“Hiiii, Louis.” Harry says in a sing song kind of way, his little fists tucked shyly under his chin.

“Hi, Harry. You’re ready for supper, aren’t you?” And Louis’ voice is just dripping with fondness and any fears of coming across as a creep are dispelled because he loves this little boy, he just loves him.

Anne is beaming and looking between the two as she bustles around the kitchen, serving lasagna on to three plates. Harry bites his lip and swings his legs back and forth, keeping his eyes glued to Louis as he takes the seat adjacent to him.

“I like your car, Lou. It looks like Batman’s car. Can you give me a rid-“

Anne clears her throat loudly, giving Harry a disapproving look before pulling up a chair. Harry huffs and crosses his arms. Louis has to look away so that he won’t see a pink bottom lip poke out; he doesn’t think he could take it.

“It is a nice car. A Porsche, right? You must be the manager at Cindie’s?” Anne asks, trying to smooth over the matter, and Louis thinks that maybe she and Harry had a “talk” before he arrived.

“Oh, no, I’m just a cashier. I get government compensation every month, helped me buy the car and a really nice little house just across the river.”

“Oh, Harry’s new school is over there!”

For the rest of dinner Louis and Anne make small talk and Harry is doe eyed, an infatuated smile stamped across his face. Louis has his eyes fixed only in the line of sight between Anne and his plate, and if he hadn’t spent the last fifteen years of his life being forced to do things he hated, not looking at Harry might have been impossible.

After a while he thinks Harry might be sulking though. So, when Anne gets up to refill her water glass he takes a risk and shoots him a wink. He doesn’t want him to think he’s forgotten about him.

Harry’s smile gets huge and he claps a little hand over his mouth to keep from giggling. Louis blushes like an idiot and looks away, pretending to check something on his phone.

After that it becomes a little game, Harry and Louis making faces at each other when Anne isn’t looking and Louis hasn’t smiled this much in one sitting ever. Harry is just preening under the attention and it makes Louis feel as giddy as a school boy…maybe because Harry is in fact a school boy.

Louis can’t help feeling forlorn after tea and cookies when Anne tells Harry it’s time to go up and get ready for bed. Harry whispers something to her but she shakes her head and says not tonight. Harry’s face falls and he hunches his shoulders as he trudges upstairs. Anne waits for him to reach the top before she folds her hands and turns to Louis.

“I’m really glad you came over tonight, Louis.”

“I am too. Harry seems to be doing really well.”

Anne looks back at the stairs and drops her voice down to a whisper. “Things at school have been hard on him, kids making fun of him for the thumb sucking and calling him gay. He’s not been paying attention in class, either. We tried switching schools but…”

Louis frowns at that. He never went to school, never knew children when was a child himself, but he’s always heard the saying that kids can be mean. He just can’t imagine how anyone could be mean to someone like Harry.

“Don’t worry too much about it.” Anne chides, seeing the expression on Louis’ face. “I haven’t seen him this happy in ages. I was actually thinking I could bribe Harry to do better in his classes if I tell him he can spend more time with you?”

“Really? I mean, yeah, yes. I—I would really love that.”

Louis is genuinely smiling now, pleased at how well this has gone and that he’s actually been accepted, but then he realizes that Anne is tearing up.

“Oh…are you-? “

“Sorry, dear… it’s just…you’re a great guy and after everything you’ve been through…you saved my son, and I don’t know how to thank you for that.”

And then she’s wrapping her arms around him. Louis tenses up guiltily and pats her back. He isn’t used to friendly embraces yet, but it’s motherly and Louis isn’t at all surprised that Harry comes from such a loving mum. Anne pulls away, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Oh, look at me, I’m leaking. Harry just adores you; you’re like a big brother to him. His father left when he was young, so he’s never really had a male influence in his life. I think that’s why he got confused and called you his boyfriend. “

Louis’ heart sinks a bit, wondering if she’s right. He thinks of how confused Harry, a ten year old, must be about all that has happened to him in the last month. Maybe he really does see Louis as a more of a big brother…

“H-He’s a good kid, Anne. I think he’s gonna be just fine.” Louis means it but the words feel hollow for some reason.

Anne gives him a watery smile and looks toward the stairs. Louis follows her gaze and sees Harry again, dressed in his jammies and hanging on to the banister.

“Harry, you’re supposed to be in bed, honey.”

“I know. I just wanted to say good night to Louis.”

Louis doesn’t know if it’s appropriate but he feels more at ease now and he hopes Anne will give him the benefit of the doubt. He crosses over to Harry, stooping down and he smells like bubblegum toothpaste and Louis accidentally thinks he might taste like it too.

“Your mum says if you do well in school we might be able to see each other a bit more.”

Harry claps his hands together delightedly, grinning between Louis and his Mum as if all his dreams are coming true.

“I will, I promise!”

“Alright, good night, love.”

“G’nightsweetdreamsIloveyou!” Harry shouts before running up the stairs in a fit of giggles.

Anne sighs and bids Louis a good night as he thanks her for dinner and leaves, trotting back out to his car. When he sits down and shuts the door he lets out the breath he’s been holding in. He’s actually proud of himself, and it’s such new, foreign feeling that he can’t even place a name to it at first.

As Louis starts the car and pulls away, he decides that even if this is it, and he can never be intimate with Harry again, it’s still worth it because Harry will love him and really, that’s all he’s ever wanted.

———————————————————————————————————————

Harry holds Louis’ words and his smell and his hands and his endearing smile in his heart over everything that he does the next week.

Whereas last week he didn’t bother doing his homework or coming inside from recess when the bell rang or listening when the teacher told him to stop day dreaming, this week Harry is the brightest in his class and stays after school to complete the work he’s missed.

It makes Harry feel better than he has in a long time because Mummy is noticing, even though she hasn’t said a word about Louis all week.

When Saturday comes Harry tries not to be too disappointed, but it’s hot outside and he doesn’t have any friends to play with and he still doesn’t know when he will see Louis again.

It’s after a late lunch that his mum calls him into the living room, holding the phone out to him and saying it’s Louis. Harry sprints the last few steps and takes a deep breath before talking into the receiver.

“Hello, Louis. How are you today?” Harry greets in his most grown up manner even though his insides are bubbling and fizzing up like soda.

Louis chuckles.” I’m doing very well, thank you. Your mum tells me you’ve been getting your grades up, so I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me tonight.”

Harry gasps and looks up at his Mum with wide eyes. “Really? I mean yes, yes I would like to go!”

“Great, I’ll come to get you in about an hour, okay?”

“Okay, bye I lov- I mean just bye!”

Harry practically throws the phone back to his mum before running upstairs. He changes his outfit about a million times and is bounding from room to room, babbling nonstop. Louis is coming to his house and is gonna hug him and talk to him in his pretty voice and take him on a real life proper date and it makes Harry want to squeal and clap.

Mummy grudgingly allows him to carry on this way, reminding him the whole time that the only way he can see Louis is if they are friends. Not boyfriends.

Harry thinks about the phone call and wonders if maybe it’s like a secret date, like the silly faces they were making at each other during dinner. He quickly decides that a secret date is a hundred times better than a proper date anyway.

Thirty minutes later Harry is dressed in his favorite yellow t-shirt and already seated at the front window, his eyes going wide and his heart thumping every time a car drives by. He doesn’t listen to Mummy when she says Louis won’t be arriving until 4:00, and rightly so because the black Porsche pulls up to the house at 3:55.

“IT’S LOUIS IT’S LOUIS I’LL GET IT!”

Harry careens around the corner, flinging the front door open and hurtling down the garden path toward the familiar figure stepping out of his car.

“LOUIS!”

He puts his hands out to stop but he’s running too fast and collides with Louis’ legs. Embarrassment almost crashes over him but the older boy doesn’t seem to notice and closes his arms around him in a quick hug.

“Hi, love. You all ready to go?”

Harry takes a few steps back and falters. He means to say something but Louis looks so…handsome. His grey t-shirt is tight around his biceps and his white jeans are tight around his bum and it makes him look so tan it’s like he’s glowing and words just evaporate in Harry’s mouth.

Mummy comes out to say hello and she and Louis are talking politely. He tells her he’s going to take Harry to play at the park down the street. She says that’s fine and waves the two goodbye.

They set off down the sidewalk into the fading afternoon. Harry wants to pout when Louis puts his hands in his pockets but once they’re out of sight of the house, Louis looks over his shoulder and takes them out, asking very nicely if he may hold Harry’s hand.

Harry’s face splits into a grin and he slips his hand into Louis’ larger one. He doesn’t even care how sweaty they get in the outside heat. Harry is full of butterflies and he feels like his blood has turned into lemonade, making his whole face and body want to scrunch up and blush.

They get to the wooded park, full of families and dogs and people jogging. Harry used to feel excluded when he saw daddies playing with their children, but now that he has Louis he finally feels like he belongs.

He looks at the playground longingly and imagines Louis pushing him on the swing and catching him when he slides down the slide and holding him up while he does the monkey bars.

Louis smiles attentively down at him, noticing the way Harry is looking at the playground. But it makes Harry feel shy all over again because Louis isn’t his dad and he just really wants Louis to like him and do whatever he wants to do on their date.

“I—I know you’re a grownup so we don’t have to play.”

“No, I want to play with you, Hazza. I never went to the park when I was your age.”

“You never went to the park?”

Louis shakes his head simply and tugs Harry over to the swings but the gears are turning in Harry’s mind and he thinks of something he never really thought of before.

“What’s wrong, love? You don’t want to swing?”

“No, I do…it’s just…you had to live with those bad guys…f-from before?”

Louis blinks at him for a moment before nodding his head solemnly.

“…but there was no one to—to save you…like you saved me.”

“Yes, there was.”

“Who?”

“You. You saved me, Harry.”

Harry doesn’t know what to think of that but the way Louis says it makes him smile and he quickly kisses Louis’ cheek before he can say no. He runs away and jumps onto one of the swings, landing on his tummy and pretending to be superman.

For the rest of the afternoon they romp around the playground and chase each other and play like regular boys until sweat is dripping down Louis’ neck and Harry’s curls are sticky and limp, stuck to his forehead.

Louis takes his hand and leads him over to the snow cone vendor. Louis gets a blue one and for a second Harry wants to get a blue one too because Louis did, but really he likes the red ones better. He asks for it feeling unsure of himself, but Louis never stops smiling at him. His blue eyes are sparkling and Harry wishes he would kiss him.

They walk around holding hands and eating their snow cones. Louis helps Harry balance as he totters along the wooden beam lining the park trail, and Harry finally finds his confidence and prattles away. Louis listens to every word with a fond smile and when they get to the edge of the park they sit on a bench.

Harry makes a move to sit on his lap but Louis gets flustered and scoots away fast. Harry is feeling brave though, so he slides off the bench and stands between his legs. He takes a pause from telling Louis how much he would like to see his cat and his house for probably the tenth time, realizing he’s been talking a lot. His throat is a little scratchy because he’s gotten so used to being quiet. 

“So…you were sad for a long time, Lou?” Harry asks concernedly, still not able to fully grasp what Louis’ life had been like before they met.

“Hmm…yeah, but I’m not sad anymore.”

“Cos you have me?”

Louis gives him a dazzling smile. “That’s right.”

“And I make you feel big and strong.” Harry says very quietly, repeating the words Louis had said before.

Louis laughs at that, setting down his snow cone cup and moving his hands to Harry’s sides to give him a tickle.

“Yes you do and you also make me very happy.”

“I don’t want you to feel sad. Never ever.” Harry states as a matter of fact. Then he bites his lip and looks down before he whispers to Louis.

“Louis, are we boyfriends?”

Louis doesn’t answer right away. He wavers, opening and closing his mouth a few times before offering a bit insincerely, “You’re a little bit too young, baby.”

Harry doesn’t mean to pout, except he does. “But you said I was pretty…you said you loved me-”

“And I meant every word.”

“Can we be secret boyfriends, then?”

Louis doesn’t even sigh or roll his eyes the way Harry thinks he will, he just smiles and whispers back right away. “Okay, but you can’t tell anyone.”

Harry cheers and jumps up and down, so, so pleased because everyone else seemed to think it was bad that he and Louis liked each other. He reaches out his little hands to touch Louis’ face, finger tips stained sugary red.

“Mummy said not to say this but…I love you, Lou.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Can you please kiss my lips?”

Louis’ eyes dart around discreetly, but he leans forward and presses his lips, cool and wet from eating the icy treat, against Harry’s in a soft and biding kiss.

“No more, okay?

“Okay.” Harry breathes back, and he thinks that kisses must be blue. Blue like Louis’ eyes and blue like the sky today, and blue like the taste of syrupy, crunchy ice on Louis’ mouth.

And as they walk back home hand in hand, hearts buoyant and light and thumping, Harry decides he likes the blue ones better now.

———————————————————————————————————————

About two weeks go by before Louis sees Harry again. It’s up to Anne to decide when they get to spend time with each other, and for now she (maddeningly) settles on allowing Harry to call him to say goodnight for a week or two.

Louis knows he’s playing with fire, telling Harry that they can be secret boyfriends, but he was just so cute when he asked that Louis couldn’t say no. To deny Harry something he wants would be to antagonize him, and seeing as Louis is head over heels in love with him, he decides that’s the last thing he will ever do. 

During the week, Louis gets a call from Anne, explaining that she has to work late on Thursday and would he mind picking Harry up from school and watching him for a little while, since he lives so close by.

Louis (of course) agrees, but can’t help feeling uneasy (and admittedly thrilled) about Harry being in his house. With him. Alone. Louis swears he can control himself; after all it will only be for a couple of hours.

So on Thursday Louis drives to the school and picks Harry up, buckling him in the front seat of the Porsche and giving him a hurried kiss at Harry’s insistence. He looks adorable in his little uniform, this one favoring a forest green rather than the navy blue at his old school. It makes his eyes greener too and all Louis can think is that he needs to take a picture of him.

They drive to Louis’ flat, Harry leaning as far as he can over the center console and chattering in a flurry about his day and Louis nearly wrecks a few times because it’s hard not to look at him when he’s like this.

Harry skips behind Louis as he opens the front door and gazes around the house in awe, touching everything he can get his hands on. Louis shows him Kiki and lets him feed her even though she’s already been fed, before leading him to the kitchen and rooting around the fridge.

“I’ll fix you a snack and then we can play, okay?”

“Can we play Kitty?”

“Anything you want, love.”

For some reason Harry blushes and says he’ll be right back. Louis doesn’t think too much of it, and pulls various food items out of the fridge and pantry, hoping he has something a little boy would like to eat. 

Louis finds he really likes this domestic sort of state of affairs and he likes having Harry at his home. He’s just starting to feel stupid for thinking he was going lose his mind to lust when a little voice pipes up from behind him.

“Um…Louis?”

Louis turns his head, seeing half of Harry’s face peering out from around the corner.

“Why are you hiding, baby?”

“I don’t know if you will like it…”

Harry slowly steps out from around the corner and Louis’ jaw goes slack.

He’s pushed on a headband fitted with fluffy, black triangle ears, and is wearing a black ballet leotard complete with a long, felt tail safety pinned to the back.

And it’s a size too small.

A voice in the back of his head states a firm ‘NO’ but Louis is caught completely off guard. Harry’s bare feet are pointed in shyly and his little bum is poking out the sides of the thing because it’s riding up and fuck there’s a perfect, baby bulge in the front and Louis is already sporting a semi and trying to remember who he is.

“See, Lou? I’m a kitten. I’m your new kitten.”

“Y-Yes you are… w-would you like a snack, kitten?”

Harry grins playfully and traipses into the kitchen, pointing his finger and meowing at the strawberries Louis pulled out. Louis swallows and turns away, washing the strawberries and cutting them up into a bowl, taking as much time as he can and trying not to look behind him.

But Harry keeps making little mewling noises and crawls around, pretending to rub on Louis’ legs. Louis stays still as he can but he has to look down to hand Harry the bowl, who wrinkles his nose cutely, pretending to sniff before carrying on with his crawling.

Louis tries, he really, really does try to keep his eyes off of Harry’s bum, sticking up and wiggling at him so tantalizingly. He has no idea where Harry got that outfit or why he decided to bring it over but he knows this game could turn in to something less innocent if he doesn’t do something. He puts his hands in his pockets, his usual defense, but Harry notices and straightens up, his eyes getting big and sad.

“Don’t you want to play with me, Lou?”

“We’re still playing, baby.” But his voice cracks with strain, panic and shame now doing nothing to stop his trousers from getting tighter.

“Nooo, I’m your kitten! You have to pet me!”

With that Harry hoists himself cheekily on top of the kitchen table and scoots around on his knees so that he’s level with Louis. He bites his lip and smiles expectantly, staring up at him with big, round eyes.

Louis gulps, a nagging thought in the back of his mind telling him that Harry is doing this, tempting him, intentionally. But that’s ridiculous. Harry is a little boy, “boyfriend” or not, and he just wants to play.

Louis reaches down tentatively, letting his fingers comb through Harry’s soft curls. He’s grappling internally with his desires and he knows he’s caving in. Something is happening that he can’t stop and the words tumble out of his mouth before he can even process his thoughts. 

“C-Can I put my hands on you, baby?” And he can’t keep the plea out of his voice because he wants it so very, very, bad.

Harry presses his pink petal lips together, taking one of Louis’ larger hands and placing it on his belly. He looks so innocent, so trusting, but Louis watches as his other hand settles lower down on Harry’s hip, his pupils expand, black and blown right before his eyes.

Perfect white teeth are worrying into his plump bottom lip and a few of his messy curls are sticking up around the kitten ears and Louis has never seen anything like it so he snaps. He lets all the reasons for not doing this drain away and he swoops down and kisses Harry hard and he doesn’t even try to stop his tongue from snaking between his plush lips.

Harry makes a tiny noise of surprise but is fisting his shirt and trying his best to kiss back over the passionate assault to his little mouth and Louis’ hands are everywhere running up his chest, neck, legs, bum and oh his hands are slipping between Harry’s thighs and cupping his little bulge and finally Louis pulls away completely out of breath.

“Is this okay, baby?” Louis’ pants huskily into the little boy’s mouth, groping Harry’s hardening cock through the silky black material.

Harry gasps and bucks into Louis’ hand in response, a gorgeous flush blooming up his neck and face. He lifts Harry up, carrying him over to the couch and setting him on top of his lap. Harry is wiggling and bouncing up and down in frustration, trying desperately to appease his inexperienced lust.

Louis hastily unzips his jeans so that Harry won’t hurt his sensitive little area on his zipper. He reaches around and squeezes Harry’s bum, rocking his little erection against his crotch, dragging it over his covered cock again and again and he isn’t thinking that all of this is wrong, it’s unwieldy, but it feels so fucking right.

Harry has his head burrowed into Louis’ neck and is moaning deliciously with every movement and Louis is struck with a sudden sickening hatred for himself, that this is what he craves, this is what gets him off, and that he has it, he has Harry. He wants to fight it, wants to keep his lust at bay but he can feel it enveloping him, crawling over his skin and throbbing in his boxers.

“L-Lou, Louis?”

Louis snaps his eyes open, guiltily looking down at Harry’s flushed face.

“Oh god. M’so sorry, Harry. I went a little crazy-”

“Lou, no, more…please.”

“T-Tell me what you want, baby, we can do anything.”

“Can you kiss me s-somewhere else?” Harry asks breathlessly, getting down from Louis’ lap and bending over the sofa cushions. He tilts his head, resting the side of his face on his forearms, his hips squirming with need as he pushes his bum up and arches his back.

“You want me to kiss you right there, baby?”

“Can you put fingers in me?” Harry whispers, reaching behind himself absentmindedly and Louis feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him.

“Th-That’s gonna hurt, baby.

“I do it by myself at night time. The doctor gave me some stuff so I don’t hurt myself.”

“Like this stuff?” Louis asks, pulling a packet of lube from his back pocket. It’s out of habit that he always has one, treating it like a security blanket when he wasn’t much younger than Harry, because when his ‘Daddy’ wanted him he wouldn’t stop to get lube, and didn’t care if it hurt Louis. 

Harry whimpers and nods at the sight of the clear packet, starting to pull the leotard bottoms aside except Louis kneels behind him and grabs his wrists, pushing them away, peeling the entire thing down his torso and little legs, letting it stay pooled around his ankles.

Louis runs his hands and lips over every inch of sweet, creamy skin, and Harry is shivering and chirping and looking back over his shoulder with his mouth ajar and cheeks rosy, the kitten ears sitting precariously awry on his head and the sight is so filthy it makes Louis want to growl.

Louis trails wet kisses down Harry’s naked back and lets his lips brush over his round bum cheeks, rubbing tiny circles with his thumbs along the crease between his bum and his legs until they tuck between and he feels the little pucker of skin flutter at his touch.

Harry buries his face in his arms and trembles as Louis pries his cheeks apart, kissing and licking around his little hole. Harry smells yummy like cherry-almond shampoo and something natural and boyish and uniquely Harry that makes Louis want to rub his face between the little mounds of lily white.

He flattens his tongue and runs it slowly up Harry’s crack, letting out a groan and relishing in the way the tiny depression twitches and clenches.

“So beautiful baby, I wanted you so much, wanted to touch you.” Louis purrs, drizzling lube onto his index and middle fingers. He traces a circle around the tiny pink entrance, Harry letting out muffled, needy sounds into his arms.

Louis’ heart is beating in his throat as he pushes his first digit in to the hilt, his eyes nearly rolling back as Harry’s walls fall around, suffocating his finger. He drags it out slowly, eliciting a harsh cry from the little boy, who spreads his legs as far as they will open and turns his head to look at Louis.

“You like it, baby?”

“Oh yes, more, Daddy, more.”

Louis jolts at how ferociously the name turns him on and swears “Fuck,” under his breath as he sinks his finger back in, twisting it gently in all the best places he knows as Harry takes deep, frenzied gulps of air and pushes back onto Louis’ hand, his face squished against the couch and his little cock grinding against the cushions.

Louis’ head is swimming and he feels drunk, ignoring the pulsing, aching cock trapped in his own trousers. He doesn’t want to get pleasure from this, doesn’t want to let himself cum as if that will make what he is doing less indecent but it’s like he’s been starving and he can’t stop himself.

“Daddy loves you, baby. Daddy loves his beautiful boy, so good and sweet for Daddy.”

Harry lets out a long, drawn out moan and begs “More, please, please, Daddy, more.”

Louis slips in the other finger, almost against his will because Harry is glass, Harry is porcelain, Harry is crystal in his eyes and he doesn’t want to hurt him. Harry’s lips are swollen cherry red and sucking frantically as he moans around his little thumb and he’s got tears rolling down his cheeks and it’s so fucking gorgeous Louis wants to cry too.

Harry starts letting out squeaks of “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” as Louis speeds up the thrusts of his slick fingers, dipping them into Harry’s tight little body again and again, going firm but never hard. He angles them everywhere he can think of until Harry nearly screams and his feet lift off the ground, tiny toes curled tight.

Louis aims for the spot over and over, pushing Harry’s hips with his other hand, helping him rut his little cock against the sofa cushion until he is just a mess of boy bent over in front him, shrieking and sobbing “Daddydaddydaddy", high keens ringing out sharp and clear into the house. He suddenly makes a choking noise like he can’t breathe and his green eyes go vacant as pleasure courses through his little body, finally letting out a shuddering, throaty cry as he cums on to the sofa.

Louis pulls his fingers out gently, turning Harry around, holding him up and bringing him to his chest as the little boy sways slightly. He kisses away the shimmering tear tracks on his cheeks, removing his thumb from his mouth so he can kiss his bitten lips too. Harry sighs and smiles serenely up at him, tugging the leotard back up his body.

“I love you so much baby, my beautiful boy. You make a very cute kitten too.” Louis says tenderly, noticing the headband has slipped off somewhere.

“You too, now?” Harry asks so calmly he might as well be asking about the weather.

Louis had just planned on shaking his head ‘no’ but then Harry touches the outline of his cock through his jeans, the heat of his little hand sending something electric through him. It alarms Louis and he leaps up from the floor, backing away because he’s lost track of time. Anne could be here any second.

“Louis, I can do it good. I’ll be good.”

“No, baby we can’t do that right now let’s get you dres-“

“Please, I never got to make you feel good.”

“We can’t baby, we have to ge-”

“Louis…Daddy, please, please, let me. I can do it, I promise.”

“I know you can, baby but we must-”

“PLEASE DADDY!” Harry cries and he sounds likes he’s in pain, tugging on the waistband of Louis’ trousers and trying to get his little hands past his unzipped fly.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?”

Louis’ stomach lurches and he spins around only to see Anne standing in the doorway aghast, apparently having let herself into the house. And Louis sees her eyes dart from him, to Harry’s hands, to the obvious erection pressing against his jeans and her face twists into outrage.

“Harry get in the car.”

“But Mum-“

“GET in the car, now.”

Harry’s arms curl against his body and he reluctantly slinks away, pulling one of the straps back up and shuffling out of the house. He doesn’t look back at Louis.

“Where are his clothes?” Anne asks tersely, her mouth stretched into a thin line. Louis croaks out the first half of some kind of explanation.

“Anne…I’m s-sorry. We were just playing an-“

“You don’t have to explain, Louis. My son obviously needs help and…I think you do too. I’m afraid I don’t think it’s a good idea for you two to see each other anymore.”

Her voice is flat and monotone and she won’t look him in the eye.

Louis feels himself nod, even though his heart is ripping itself apart. He gives her Harry’s backpack, finding his school clothes in a pile in the bathroom and handing those over as well. She marches out without another word, slamming the door and plunging his flat into silence.

The suddenness and completeness of Harry’s lack of presence weighs down on Louis and the flat hums with the shock of it. He perches himself on the couch, teetering on the brink of complete psychological anguish, when he notices the little cat ears wedged between the couch cushions.

He picks them up with a heavy heart, turning them over in his hands and a realization crashes over him. Even if Harry loves him now, he will stop loving him. In a few years he will start to like girls or boys his own age and realize what a complete freak Louis is.

Maybe this way, Harry will never have to break his heart and Louis won’t have to know what it’s like for Harry to grow up and fall out of love with him.

Louis squeezes his eyes shut but the tears fall anyway. He holds the headband to his chest and repeats these things to himself over and over, hoping eventually he can believe them.

———————————————————————————————————————————-

He stops counting the days, life becomes mechanical and formulaic. Because when he thinks about it, this dreadful sadness mingling with a sense of humiliation never really left him after escaping slavery, Harry just made him forget about it. And Harry is gone.

Louis has known dark days, dark years even, but nothing has cast such a shadow over his life as losing Harry has.

At least, that’s what he thinks.

He doesn’t know how many days it’s been since he last saw Harry because all the days are the same. He’s closing up at work, putting away a box of 1000 lavender panties to be folded for tomorrow, when his phone rings and it’s from a number he doesn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“WHERE IS HE LOUIS?” A shrill voice seethes over the phone.

“What? Who is this?”

“WHERE IS HE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY SON?”

Louis is too startled by all of this to think properly. But his brain puts together that this is Anne and that her son is missing and that her son is Harry and-

“Wait, Harry’s missing?”

“YOU, YOU HAVE HIM…y-you have to have him.” Her voice pitches and Louis can hear that she is crying. But there must be a mistake because he doesn’t have Harry. He doesn’t have him at all.

“Anne…I’m at work…I’m closing at work…I’ve been here all day. Where’s Harry?”

“Louis please, please just tell me he’s with you. I won’t call the police just give him back ple-“

“ANNE I DON’T HAVE HIM WHERE IS HE?”

“Oh my god. Oh my god L-Louis, his window screen is popped out and his bicycle is gone! He’s gone, he’s not here, he’s gone. “

Gone. Terror and dismay are rising in Louis like vomit, or maybe he actually is going to vomit. Bubbles of agony and rage and fear are bursting within him, building by the second.

He can’t move, he can’t breathe. Every terrible memory he’s ever gathered floods into his mind except instead of him it’s Harry. Sweet, beautiful, precious, Harry suffering at the hands of evil men and it’s worse, it’s so much worse.

Harry is missing. Harry is gone. Not gone from him but gone from everything. 

And of all the days Louis has known or imagined, this one is the worst.


	4. Part Four

For most people to be loved is to be expected. It is good and warm, fuzzy and fixed. Love is an aid. Love is a comfort. Love is happiness.

The thing about never having been loved before is that when it finally happens it hooks you, snatches away every aspect of being you thought you were, nestles beneath your skin, into your bones and becomes such a part of you that to have it taken away would be to destroy you.

Louis is not most people, and for Louis love is an affliction. And he knows this. He knows he has brought upon himself an unspeakable weakness. But he would give anything to keep it. For Harry he would give his very life.

Which is why his mind and body are moving faster than they have ever moved in his life. He jumps into his car and speeds over the river bridge to Harry’s house. Somehow he’s crammed all the haunting reminders of his past into a dark corner of his mind where he can’t see them. Being emotional will get him nowhere at his point. He has to be objective. He has to find Harry.

It’s an eerily familiar sight as he pulls up, the street in front of the small house is once again lined with police cars. Louis walks toward the commotion, spotting Anne in the living room, evidently arguing with a detective. She looks quite mad. Her clothes are disheveled and little tufts of unruly hair are flying around her head. Louis walks inside and to his surprise her face seems to relax at the sight of him.

“Do they have any leads?”

“They won’t listen to me, Louis. They think Harry was trying to get to your house but he isn’t on any of the cameras on the bridge. He never crossed it. ”

A hollow feeling sinks into the pit of Louis’ stomach and Anne tentatively clutches his elbow. A look of understanding passes between the two. Despite the strange scene she walked in on at his house; Louis is the only other person in the world who loves Harry.

The detective is frowning and consulting with another officer before he turns back to Louis and Anne.

“Detective Burns, this is Louis Tomlinson, he’s the family friend I told you about.”

“Ah, Mr. Tomlinson, I’m going to have to ask you to return home. If Harry shows up yo-“

“But Anne’s just said he wasn’t on the bridge surveillance footage! Something must have happened between here and-“

“I assure you, my best officers have searched the area between the house and the bridge. There is no sign of Harry or his bike. It’s going in as a kidnapping or a run away, so if you wou-“

“Detective, please, I can’t just go home. I can help-”

“Sir, the best thing you can do for Harry right now is go home, go home and wait.”

The detective looks at him sternly, and it makes Louis furious because this bloke doesn’t know the first thing about Harry or what’s best for him. He wants to argue but Anne gives him a nod and a pat on the arm, and Louis really has no other choice but to leave. He turns and stalks out of the house, stepping out into the mild night.

Something just isn’t adding up. Harry’s bicycle is gone. If someone had kidnapped him on the way to the bridge why would they take the time to grab his bike?

The more Louis thinks about it…Harry wouldn’t have come to his house. He had only been there once before and it’s too far, too daunting for a little boy on a bike to attempt. He had to have gone somewhere closer. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere like…

The park.

The idea hits Louis like a train and his feet begin to move before he even considers telling anyone about it. He jogs down the street, searching the darkness for any telltale signs of Harry, but to his disappointment he sees nothing but a dark expanse of spindly trees and empty playground equipment.

He’s about to turn back when there’s a crackle of twigs and a figure stumbling out of a thicket of brush. It’s much too tall to be Harry, but it seems to be directing itself at Louis.

Louis isn’t overly fond of dark figures coming toward him at night, and another life time ago he probably would have fled out of fear. But Harry could be here and his disappearance has forced a surge of protectiveness through every nerve in Louis’ body and for the first time in his life he isn’t afraid.

“Oi!” The figure calls out, staggering a bit. Louis can make out that it’s definitely a young man.

“Odd time to be out a children’s park, mate.” Louis states balefully, eyeing the man suspiciously.

As the figure comes closer and steps into the street light Louis sees that he is quite young, no older than sixteen or seventeen, with a shaved head and a dazed grin.

“Just passing through. Try’na get home. Are you a cop?”

“No.” Louis replies flatly, catching a whiff of alcohol.

“Oh…you’re not looking for the kid on the amber alert?”

“You’ve seen him?”

“Yeah, I’ve just seen him at a party,“ He explains pointing vaguely behind himself, “Rode up on his bike and everything.”

“What? You’ve just walked from there? Where is it? What’s the address? “

The boy blinks his eyes in bewilderment, unable to process the quick succession of questions. He rubs his temples, trying to put together an answer.

“Nah man, it’s like a house for holiday. The post doesn’t go there. It’s just a party house. “

“Post? No, I’m not talking about the post! I’m asking how to get there!”

“Oh, right, uh, you just, like, follow the farm road a ways…lot a cars there. You can’t miss it.” He slurs groggily, gesturing behind himself again.

“Well, can you take me there? Please, he doesn’t belong there.”

“Bro, look m’sorry your kid likes to party but sometimes you gotta let kids be themselves. He’s alri-.”

Louis’ patience was lost before this conversation even started and he realizes he’s wasting his time. He pivots around and leaves, going back toward his car with a new found sense of purpose.

Harry is probably confused, and possibly intoxicated, but he might be okay. He has to be.

———————————————————————————————————————

 

Harry is bad. He knows it. He feels it in his head and his tummy but mostly in his heart.

He has never felt this bad before so he writes in it a little journal, scribbling the words I AM BAD I AM BAD I AM BAD so hard that his pencil tip snaps and he snaps too. He wants to kick and scream and scratch it into his skin.

Without Louis and with what he has done he is sick and he is bad and he is not well. He is definitely not well. Mummy gives him pills from the doctor that don’t work, and he knows the damage is permanent. He knows that the something that is wrong with him will be wrong with him forever.

Harry wanted Louis to touch him. Touch him the way he did the first time they met. It was all he ever thought about and he knew that if he wore the kitten costume he could get Louis to pet him but he never meant to get him in trouble.

Louis is probably upset with him, probably thinks he’s stupid and weird, probably thinks he’s yucky, and that thought engulfs Harry in sadness and makes his heart hurt so bad he wants to rip it out. He doesn’t want to feel. He doesn’t want to be Harry anymore.

He wants to be a different boy with a different name who doesn’t suck his thumb when he gets scared and who hasn’t begun wetting the bed again and who doesn’t love a boy named Louis because the reality is that Louis is gone for good and forever and Harry will never get him back.

And that’s where the trouble really begins, at what Harry hopes to be the end of himself.

Harry can’t get out of his body or his mind but he can get out of his house. He hears about a high school party at school, someone’s older brother having a kegger at their parents’ summer home. Since Harry is bad now, he figures he should go. The more he thinks of it and plans it out the better he feels, because for once he isn’t thinking about missing Louis.

———————————————————————————————————————

Harry is tall for his age and getting taller, so when he arrives and tells the older kids he’s fourteen he gets a few looks but is brushed off as a late bloomer. A girl hands him a plastic cup full of soda with a funny after taste and Harry drinks it as fast as he can, trying his hardest not to seem like a ten year old.

He meanders around for a bit, not sure what to do with himself. Everyone is bigger than him, laughing amongst themselves and being loud and rowdy.

Something in the main room smashes and breaks and Harry’s heart starts leaping against his ribs like a frantic bird. He’s momentarily panicked but only raucous laughter ensues and Harry has never felt like such a child.

That’s when he notices the dark haired boy. He’s staring at him from across the room, looking at him with such an intensity it makes Harry imagine he can feel the heat of his gaze. After a minute the boy strides up, leaning against the wall beside Harry with a smirk.

Despite smelling like he’s doused in whatever has been added to Harry’s soda he’s very good looking, with a chiseled kind of face and velvet brown eyes with thick lashes. Harry thinks something about him is intimidating, but he hurriedly tells himself he’s just feeling shy.

“Sup, you having a good time?”

“Yeah, I’m having fun.”

“M’Zayn, by the way. You’re new?”

“Oh…y-yeah, I just moved here. I’m Ha-“

“How old are you?”

“F-Fourteen.”

“No you’re not, but we can pretend.”

Harry gets a sinking feeling in his tummy, but rather than heed it he gulps down the rest of his drink. At least someone is talking to him.

He knows Zayn is saying something else, but the words are starting to slip through his mind without leaving any kind of meaning behind. Harry feels disoriented…and giggly.

Zayn smirks and snakes an arm around his waist, pulling him away from the wall. Harry smiles back, perfectly content with having a place and being led around the crowded house. Now people are noticing him and grinning at him and Zayn together.

Maybe it’s the drink or maybe it’s because he’s been sad for so long but Harry cannot properly see the aura of menace surrounding this boy. He knows it’s there, but it just doesn’t bother him the way it might have before. He came here to feel good again and everything feels fun and new and tingly.

Zayn directs him away from the party and into the small half bath in the hallway. Before Harry really puts together what is happening he’s shoved up against the wall, Zayn’s mouth and tongue hot against his own.

In whatever state of mind he’s drank himself into it makes him think of Louis again. That Zayn’s lips don’t have the little chapped bits that Louis’ had, and his tongue flicks around his mouth too hard, flopping like a fish, and his smell is all wrong. It’s spicy and over powering.

He hears the click of a door being locked, but he’s surprised at himself for how little he cares about what’s happening. It must be the soda. It must be because he can’t have Louis.

Zayn’s lips are gone and Harry feels pressure being applied to his shoulders. His knees give way and he stumbles to the floor, which he can now see is littered with empty red cups and there are pee streaks on the walls and tile. And even though it’s disgusting, it isn’t nearly as disgusting as Harry feels on the inside.

Harry doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he isn’t Harry anymore is he? He reaches up slowly and unzips Zayn’s trousers, pulling them and his navy blue boxers down around his thighs. Harry thinks he knows what he’s supposed to do. He takes the tip of Zayn’s cock between his lips, giving an experimental lick.

It isn’t hard all the way yet and that makes Harry grimace, looking up at Zayn hesitantly with his eyebrows knitted together. He sucks around the head unenthusiastically a few times, before deciding he’s doing it wrong but before he can stand up Zayn grabs at his hair, pulling on it so that his chin angles up and his dick slides right down Harry’s throat.

“That’s better, isn’t it baby boy?”

“That’s better isn’t it baby boy?”

That’s better isn’t it baby boy?

The too familiar words echo in Harry’s mind. No. He doesn’t like this anymore. He suddenly can’t remember what in the world made him think this was what he wanted. He’s too little, too little to be here. He puts his hands flat on Zayn’s thighs and tries to push away but Zayn tightens his grip on his curls and roughly cups his jaw, squeezing it so that he can’t move back.

“No, no, babe. You finish what you started.” He coos tauntingly, thrusting deeper into Harry’s throat.

Harry gags and retches around the thing being forced into his mouth. He can’t breathe through his nose because he’s already crying and his lips and throat are already so sore. He tries to say something, to beg the boy to stop but the desperate sound he gurgles sends vibrations around Zayn’s cock, making him groan and tilt his head back in pleasure.

Harry realizes in horror how hard Zayn is now and that he knows he’s hurting him and knows his tears are falling out of fear and pain and humiliation and this boy likes that. Harry doesn’t understand how this is happening again, how these people seem to find him. He wants to be far away from Zayn and he wants this to be over.

Then someone starts pounding on the bathroom door and Harry is so lightheaded he imagines it, his only escape, being far, far away.

“Fuck off!” Zayn shouts, not taking his eyes off of Harry. Harry can’t understand how he deceived himself into thinking this boy was beautiful. He looks like a wolf, like a monster.

Suddenly a foot comes crashing through with a deafening crack, sending the door knob flying at Harry’s head and bits of wood scattering all over the filthy bathroom. Zayn flies around, his cock drawing out of Harry’s mouth, who sputters and manages to dive under the sink, cowering and terrified of whatever just came through the door.

And he tells himself he’s gone crazy or he’s taken an extra dose of his medication or maybe he is dead because Louis, brilliant, amazing, perfect Louis is standing in the doorway with his eyes narrowed and blazing and his hands curled into angry fists. 

“WHAT THE FUCK MA-“

But before he can finish Louis is dragging Zayn out of the bathroom, hands wrapped around his neck and slamming him up against the wall.

“If I EVER see your fucking face within a 50 mile fucking radius of him I will beat living FUCK out of you you rat faced piece of shit. Do you understand me? DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME?”

Louis’ voice booms around the house and the entire party has gone silent. Zayn struggles at first but his face starts to turn purple and he nods quickly. Louis lets him drop to the floor, a few framed pictures clattering to the ground along with him.

Harry is in such a state of shock and fear that when Louis rounds on him he expects him to yell at him too. But his face has softened and he gets down on one knee to get to Harry. 

“C’mere baby. It’s okay. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He coaxes gently, plucking at Harry’s sleeve and pulling him out from under the sink. Harry stiffly unfreezes himself and latches around Louis’ neck.

Strong arms are around him, scooping him up and hugging him tight and there’s that wonderful smell and suddenly it isn’t Louis’ smell that Harry needs to breathe, it’s Louis. Louis is air and Harry can’t get enough of it into his lungs. Affection gushes up inside him and he buries his face into Louis’ neck, trying to ignore the whispers surrounding them.

That guy’s dad is fucking insane, dude.

Oh my god, how old is that kid?

I bet that dude’s gonna call the cops. 

Shit, man I’m leaving.

A horde of teenagers stampede past Louis and Harry in a clamor of slamming car doors and screeching tires, leaving the house completely deserted. Louis doesn’t say a word, just rubs a hand up and down Harry’s back as he cries, making his way slowly down the gravel path to his Porshe, pulling the front seat all the way back so that Harry can stay comfortably in his lap.

Louis loves him. Louis actually still loves him and surely Harry does not deserve it and it burns him, it scorches him with shame because of the way he needs it. He will die without Louis.

And Louis is here with him in his space, in his existence and Harry gets it now, he understands what love is. It’s not holding hands and kissing and going on dates. It’s when someone makes you feel like the world is small and safe and things are good and you belong in your skin and everything is in place even if nothing has changed.

Harry pulls away from Louis’ neck, sniffling and hiccuping but finally finding his voice.

“Lou…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t…I didn’t want to. I don’t even know why I came it was so stupid. I’m so stupid.”

Louis shushes him gently, running his fingers through Harry’s hair so that he will look at him. His face doesn’t look angry at all. His eyes are a little blood shot but he just looks relieved and leans down to kiss away the salty tears streaming down Harry’s cheeks.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I mean it.”

All Harry can think to do is kiss him. So he does.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: 1dfetusfics


End file.
